


A Ringing in My Ear

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode: s02e15 Journey to Babel, M/M, Pon Farr, Sarek Is Not A Terrible Father, Soulmates, Spock Is Bad At Feelings, T'hy'la, Trans James T. Kirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Vulcans aren’t supposed to dream. But Spock’s had dreams all his life, of one human man. Who he thinks is imaginary......till he sets foot aboard the Enterprise and discovers James T. Kirk is very real indeed.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 56
Kudos: 413





	1. A Face in The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not gonna lie, I took the song “Into The Unknown” from Frozen II, and turned it into a 19K fic. You’re welcome.

S’Chn T’Gai Spock was one of the few beings in the entire cosmos who could truthfully say that he’d lived up to his father’s expectations of him.

He was born in the year 2230 to a Vulcan father, Sarek, of the house of Surak, and a mother from the planet Earth, a human named Amanda Grayson. He was the first Vulcan-Human hybrid in the whole universe. Needless to say, his existence was cause for talk amongst the Vulcanians.

A good Vulcan does not gossip. Nor do they chat, gab, jaw, or chew the fat. They do however...discuss. And in the weeks leading up to and following his birth, there was much discussion about what a hybrid child could possibly achieve, especially in comparison to his purely Vulcan peers.

Spock’s biology was only part of what called attention to him. His father was not only the first to marry a human being, but was of one of the most noble families on Vulcan, which could trace their lineage all the way back to the greatest Vulcan philosopher who ever lived and the pillar of their modern society: Surak himself. His great great grandfather, Solkar, was the first to make contact with the human race. His grandmother was the highly respected and formidable priestess T’Pau. His own father had been married to a princess before he’d taken Amanda as a wife, and now both he and his human bride were ambassadors to the United Federation of Planets. The onus on Spock to not only prove himself as a Vulcan, but as an _extraordinary_ one at that, was always great.

* * *

At age seven, Spock was arranged by his father into a marriage with the daughter of another great house. The pairing was most auspicious to say the least. Only Amanda questioned it, being from a planet where arranged marriages had been considered antiquated and cruel several for centuries past.

“But what if Spock doesn’t _love_ her?” Amanda protested. “What if he’s not happy with her?”

“My wife, you speak of human emotions. Our son is Vulcan. These things will not matter to him when he is wed to T’Pring.”

Amanda fumed. “Oh, am I to take that to mean you don’t love _me?_ Since love doesn’t matter and all.”

The sensation of terror a husband feels when he’s said something insensitive to his wife and angered her is the same on Vulcan as it is on Earth. “I only meant to say,” Sarek quickly backtracked, “that at the time, this arrangement will feel natural to him. When T’Pau performed the joining, she would have sensed any incompatibilities in their minds that would make them unsuitable to each other. This is the way my people have lived and procreated for millennia.”

Amanda turned to her child. “Spock. My darling,” she said softly. The human woman always made a point to speak with her son with the utmost gentility, since she knew he would receive no creature comfort anywhere else. “The girl you met today—T’Pring. You understand what happened today, don’t you?”

“Yes, _ko-mekh_ ,” Spock replied evenly. He was a small, wiry boy with thick dark hair and guileless brown eyes inherited from his maternal grandmother. “ _Ko-mekh’il_ melded our minds.”

“Someday T’Pring is going to be married to you,” Amanda continued. “She’s going to be your partner. Like your father and I are partners. What do you think of that?”

Spock blinked slowly, his youthful face, still retaining some of its baby fat, pensive as he raised his hand to his mouth to consider her query seriously, his angular brows furrowed. Then he looked back at her and said, “If it is the Vulcan way...then it must be right.”

Amanda sighed and looked back at her husband as if to say, _you win_. Then she gathered Spock in her arms and said, “Alright, my love. Time for bed.”

She made him wash his face and brush his teeth, then changed him into his sleep robe. Then he sat on the edge of his bed as she tucked him in, and stroked his hair. “ _Ko-mekh_ , I apologize if my answer displeased you,” Spock said.

Amanda shook her head. “No, my dear, you were just being honest. Your father and I only want your happiness and well-being...even if we have different ideas of what that entails.”

“I appreciate your consideration for my well-being.”

Amanda laid her hands on her lap. “Would you like me to read the story tonight?”

“Please.”

Amanda nodded, pulling out an antique Earth book (paper products like books had become obsolete in the late 21st century but some of the old relics were still around for those traditionalists) with gold letters on the front, spelling out in Earth English: _The Princess Bride_. Amanda opened to their marker. “Now, where were we?”

“The princess had just discovered the prince’s lies.”

“Ah yes.” She began to read. “ _I say you are a coward and you are; I think you hunt only to reassure yourself that you are not what you are: the weakest thing to ever walk the Earth. He will come for me and then we will be gone, and you will be helpless for all your hunting, because Westley and I are joined by the bond of love and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords._ ”

“The characters in this book are most excitable, and illogical,” Spock said. “Are all humans this way, _ko-mekh_?”

Amanda smiled wryly at him. “Only the ones interesting enough to tell stories about.”

Spock nodded. “I apologize for my interjection. Please continue.”

Soon Spock was asleep. His mother closed the book, kissed his forehead, and quietly left the room.

* * *

It is a known fact that Vulcans do not dream. While their minds are superior to those of humans, the Vulcan mind needs to stop from time to time, to keep from going mad. So except for those vital lobes that keep the body alive, the brain shuts down completely when a Vulcan goes to sleep, putting them in a trance.

Spock had never had a dream before. But that night, as he lay so still in his bed, the young Vulcan experienced his first.

It was less a vision and more of an impression. Flashes of goldenrod yellow and feelings he could not describe because he’d never experienced them before. The closest he’d ever felt to this feeling was when he was alone with his pet sehlat, I-Chaya, snuggled up in his thick, sweet-smelling fur. At peace. Safe. Content.

Spock blinked awake as the fiery orange light of _las’hark_ streaming through his window. He normally arose when the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon, but it had been at least an hour since then. Spock had never slept so late since he was an infant.

“Arise, Spock. You are going to be late for school.” Sarek’s stern voice from the doorway took him by surprise.

Spock jumped out of bed. “My apologies, _sa-mekh_ ,” he babbled as he rushed past.

The dream was forgotten as quickly as it came.

* * *

The _kahs’wan_ is a rite of passage for young Vulcans when they reach maturity. Adolescent Vulcans trek out into the desert and survive on their own for ten days to prove their self-sufficiency and independence. Spock begged his parents to let him undergo his early, but Amanda put her foot down. Spock had to wait until he was 11 before his mother finally gave in.

It was his eighth night in the Vulcan wilderness, and Spock was dangerously hungry. He’d had no luck scavenging any plants to eat. Water was scarce as well. If his circumstances didn’t change soon, he wouldn’t make it to the last day.

He could picture Stonn’s cruel smirk at the news that Spock had starved to death and withered away in the desert. His classmates often followed his lead in their daily mocking and ostracization of Spock. But perhaps, just perhaps...his success at the _kahs’wan_ would prove to them that he truly was a Vulcan.

But there’d be no hope of that if he died here...

Spock stared into the flickering fire, trying to ignore the gnawing in his stomach. The hypnotic effect of the flames were lulling him into slumber. Spock finally gave in and curled on his side on the ground, hoping that the smoke would ward off any _le-matyas_ in the area that might think he would make a good snack.

Suddenly Spock sat bolt upright as the sound of a high whistle echoing across the dunes. He clenched his dagger fashioned out of a sharp rock and held his breath, listening intently. But he heard nothing.

Suddenly, in the distance, he spotted a silhouette standing atop a tall dune. Spock stood up, and even though he knew it was foolish, he called out: “Hello?”

The silhouette turned toward him, but it was too dark to make out any features. It waved an arm, beckoning him.

“Hello!” Spock cried again. “Who are you?”

The silhouette waved him toward him again, then disappeared over the point of the dune.

“Wait!” Spock exclaimed, taking off at a run toward the figure. “Come back! Wait-!”

Spock jerked awake. He’d never moved. The silhouette had been a dream. But it’d been so vivid...and the figure, who—or _what—_ ever it had been...felt so _familiar_...

Spock rose and gazed off into the distance where he’d spotted sight of the strangely friendly spectre. Sure enough, there was a large dune in that direction. Curiously, Spock hiked across the sand and climbed to the top. When he saw what lie on the other side, his eyes flew open wide.

 _Shi’masu_. An oasis, smack in the middle of all this nothingness. 

Spock galloped down the slope and threw himself at the water’s edge, cupping the water in his hands and slurping unceremoniously. He drank to his heart’s content, and he was ecstatic as he spotted some plant life growing around the water that he knew was edible. And he realized:

The vision had _saved_ him.

* * *

“You’ve been distracted as of late, my son.”

Amanda was at work embroidering Spock a new set of robes for his first year at the Vulcan Science Academy. It was an incredibly discerning school, and a great honor for one to be accepted there. She was meticulously needling the Surak family crest onto the breast in silver thread, knowing it would stand out against the midnight blue fabric.

After a few seconds of silence, Spock looked up from gazing out the window. “I’m sorry, Mother, did you say something?” the eighteen year old asked.

Amanda chuckled to herself. “Nothing, my love. I’ll leave you to your dreaming.” She stared at the insignia she’d just sewn wistfully. “Goodness knows you don’t have much time left to do it.”

“Mother...you do not disapprove of my attendance at the Academy, do you?” Spock said curiously.

“No, of course not. I’m so proud of you. But...” Amanda sighed. “I do wonder of what _you_ really want and not what you feel is expected of you.”

Spock frowned. “You know what a privilege it is to attend there. How could I not want it?”

“I know, but...are you happy, Spock?”

“I...do not understand the question.”

Amanda merely looked at him and sighed. “Never mind. Ignore me. A silly human’s way of thinking, I suppose.”

Spock smiled magnanimously, rose from his seat, walked to her, and kissed her temple. “I do not blame you,” he said, and left the room.

In truth, these last few weeks had seen Spock very distracted indeed. His sleep had been invaded with more images, stronger and more defined than in his prepubescence. The figure had taken on form, color.

A human male haunted his dreams. He was unspeakably beautiful, the most lovely thing Spock had ever beheld. His age, or close enough. Rich looking hair the color of his mother’s favorite candy, caramel: not quite brown but not quite blonde either. Kind, glittering eyes that were a hue Spock could not place at all. Like honey, with touches of light green and champagne gold. They were framed by long, thick lashes. Full lips that curved into a warm smile. A strong jaw and broad shoulders.

Spock closed his eyes and pictured that face, so perfectly sculpted, so flawlessly designed. He could see the eyes turned on him, and that gaze caused a shiver down his spine.

It was this man who’d occupied his nights, and now, his days. Considering that his mother and adopted sister were the only humans he’d met, it was impossible that the man was someone he knew. He must’ve created him...but why?

Sometimes it was just a flash of his face. Sometimes he was saying something to him, something that Spock just couldn’t quite make out. But the night before...

The man had reached out to Spock before, but he’d never been able to reach back. But as he lie dreaming, Spock felt a warm hand softly cup his cheek. The man smiled at Spock shyly, a triumphant spark in his bewitching eyes.

 _I am going mad_ , Spock thought. _I have become completely absorbed by a fantasy_.

It was all fine and well to dwell on his mysterious dream when he had been 11, or 14, or 16...but he was no longer a child. He was days away from leaving home for the Academy, and his head was clouded with the roguish smiles of a man he didn’t even know, and doubtfully even existed.

 _What would Father say_ , a small voice in his head said to him, _if he knew you were emotionally compromised?_

Spock inhaled sharply through his nostrils. No, he couldn’t have that at all. He closed his eyes firmly and banished the vision from his mind altogether. He would not think on the mystery man any longer.

Spock awoke the morning bright and early, and not a single dream had invaded his sleep. He had mastered his emotions. He had won.

And if there was a slightly hollow feeling in his stomach, well, that could be ignored as well.


	2. Far Flung Fates

_18 years later..._

“My son, welcome home,” Sarek said, stepping back to allow Spock to enter.

“Greetings, my father. You look well.” Sarek had gained some grey hairs, but for a man of 102, it was only to be expected.

“As do you. And how were your last students?”

“Adequately intelligent.”

“There’s my big boy!” Amanda cooed, entering the room and rushing toward her son, pulling him into a firm hug. “It’s so good to have you home!”

“You saw me at Hanukkah, Mother. There is no need for this emotional display,” Spock said, enduring the hug nonetheless.

Amanda sighed exasperatedly. “My son, you’re a Vulcan through and through.”

Spock actually smiled at this. “Thank you.”

Amanda smacked his arm playfully. “Let’s go get you settled into your room.”

“I see no reason to unpack,” Spock said as he faithfully followed his mother down the hall to his bedroom. “After all, I will just have to repack tomorrow to leave with you and Father. Remind me again why I must attend you?”

“Because, we’re a family, Spock,” said Amanda, rolling her eyes.

“Mother, it is an ambassadorial voyage to a diplomatic summit, and I am neither an ambassador nor a diplomat. You act as if it is a family vacation.”

Amanda sighed as Spock lay his suitcase on his bed. “Spock, you’re home from the VSA. You’ve never left the planet once in your life. Would you really rather sit around at home?”

Spock smiled gently at her. “Who will tend your garden if I go with you?” he teased.

Amanda smiled too, in spite of herself. “You know we have staff for that.”

“As if you’ve ever let anyone besides me touch your roses.”

“I’ll take the chance. I never get to see you anymore since you’ve become head of the astrophysics department at the VSA. And your father will never admit it, but he misses you too. And it’s not like we’ll get to see each other a ton when they send you on that scientific expedition to the Beta Quadrant...”

Amanda tried to stifle a sniffle, but Spock caught it anyway. “My mother. I am displeased to see you melancholy.” He generously put his arm around her to comfort her.

“Oh my love...” Amanda patted his arm and looked up at him. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. Don’t worry about me.”

“Happy?” Spock blinked at her. “I am...unfamiliar with that emotion.”

Amanda sighed, giving up, and just contented herself with hugging him again, while she had the chance.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair on Spock’s part. Mostly his father commented on how he disdained seeing the likes of Ambassador Gav of Tellar again. Vulcans do not have spats or arguments as that would be unseemly and illogical, but Sarek’s personal distaste for the Tellarite ambassador was as about as close as one could get.

Spock went to bed early, as he and his parents had to meet the shuttle to the starship promptly in the morning. His mind still somewhat preoccupied with what Amanda had said earlier to him, he shut his eyes and soon drifted off...

He found himself sitting in a chair before a control panel...the bridge of a starship, he realized. He’d always been curious what one looked like, but had never been inside one before.

He swiveled in his chair to look around the circular room. There were several stations about, blinking and bleeping—in a way it was almost soothing. In the center of the room, there was an impressive chair, and a man in a gold-colored shirt sitting it, facing away from him, staring into the black viewscreen as stars floated past, his chin resting on the heel of his hand. He was the only person on the bridge apart from Spock.

Spock wondered whether or not he should call out to the other man when suddenly he looked over his shoulder, sensing Spock there. His eyes lit up. “It’s you!” he gasped in a rich tenor.

Spock’s eyes widened. It was _him_.

He was older now, just as Spock was—the dream always seemed to age with him. But those eyes, that smile...it was undeniably him.

“I haven’t seen you in what, 15 years?” The man in yellow said, springing out of the chair and rushing over to the railing separating the upper level of the bridge where Spock was sitting from the pit where the other man was standing. The man smiled so brightly Spock felt as though he was staring right into _las’hark_. “I can’t believe it’s really you,” the man in yellow said dreamily. “I never thought I’d see you again...can you hear me?”

Spock was still too much in shock to respond, so he just nodded.

The man in yellow smiled again. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you. I thought I’d just imagined you when I was a kid—well, I guess I did. It is a dream, right? But still...”

“This...cannot be happening,” Spock said faintly.

“What can’t be happening?” asked the man, tipping his head to the side.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye,” Spock said to the dream, then promptly woke up.

Spock stared into the darkness of his room, breathing heavily. No. No, no, no, no, _no_. He had thought he had cured himself of this childish nonsense ages ago.

Spock pursed his lips together. It must be happening again because he was sleeping in his childhood bedroom again. Nostalgia-triggered dreaming, that’s all it was.

Spock checked his chronometer. He’d slept two standard hours. That was enough sleep for him. If he needed, he could always take a small respite on the starship once they were aboard.

It wasn’t as if there’d be anything on board to interest him anyhow.

* * *

“Spock, did you not sleep well last night?” Amanda asked as they stepped out of the shuttle. “You have dark circles under your eyes.”

“Do not concern yourself, Mother. I am perfectly alright. Vulcans do not need as much as sleep as humans,” Spock reminded her.

“Spock,” Sarek said. “Do not make your mother carry her own luggage.”

“Yes, Father,” said Spock obediently, taking Amanda’s suitcase out of her hand even though Amanda claimed she could carry it by herself. As his parents ambled forward to where the ship’s crew were waiting to greet them, Spock took a moment to look out into the vastness of space before the shuttle bay doors were closed. He found himself a bit overwhelmed. He’d always known, logically, that Vulcan was just one small planet in the immense cosmos. But now, standing in the shuttle bay of a starship floating out in the black...it seemed real. The gravity holding him to the floor, artificial; the oxygen he breathed was being filtered in from a hydroponics labs on another deck somewhere. Thirty five paces forward and he’d be floating out into nothingness. It was almost impossible to fathom.

“Spock, come along,” Sarek commanded. “Come and greet our considerate hosts.”

“Yes, Father,” Spock said, tearing his eyes away as the doors began to slide closed. He turned and began following his parents...when his eyes fell upon _him_.

The man in yellow. He was shaking hands with his mother, grinning that same smile he always did in his dreams. Only it wasn’t a dream. Spock was awake. This was _real_.

The man in yellow tore his gaze away from Amanda and casually glanced toward him, then sharply did a double take and stared at Spock in what was unmistakably recognition.

Spock stared back, mouth agape, frozen in place.

“Hey... _hey_. You alright, slim?”

Spock blinked several times and realized a human man was standing at his elbow. He was wearing a blue dress uniform, and had thick brown hair and light blue eyes. “I said, are you okay?” the man asked in a rough Earth dialect Spock could not place.

“I...am adequate. And my name is Spock, not ‘slim.’”

The man snorted. “You’re a Vulcan alright. Literal to a fault. Name’s McCoy, I’m the ship’s doctor.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Spock said, nodding to him distractedly.

McCoy nodded to the suitcases dangling at Spock’s sides. “Can I help ya with those?”

“No, no, I can manage,” Spock said quickly, hoisting them up.

“Never been on a starship before, eh?” said McCoy wryly.

“How did you know?”

“Ya got that wide-eyed look folks get when they go to space for the first time. S’pose yer ma an’ pa are so used to trips like this it don’t even faze ‘em anymore.”

“I...suppose.”

“You don’ need to look so spooked. Look, I ain’t sayin’ I’m real kean on space myself, but you ain’t got nothin’ to be worried about. Captain Kirk will take care of ya.”

“Ah, yes! The Captain. I haven’t introduced myself yet.” In all the shock of seeing the man in yellow, Spock had completely forgotten decorum. “Where might I find him?”

“Here, I’ll call ‘im over. Ay, Jim, come meet the ambassadors’ kid.”

The man in yellow looked up, and started heading over, eyes glued on Spock.

 _Oh no._ **_He’s_ ** _the Captain?!_

“James Kirk, meet Spack,” said McCoy as the man approached.

“It’s _Spock_ , actually,” the Vulcan said, using every ounce of Vulcan control to keep the panic out of his voice.

“Hi,” said the Captain softly, gazing at him as if he were the most beautiful star in the heavens. “It’s...so nice to meet you.”

“Oh boy,” said McCoy, rolling his eyes. “I know what _that_ look means, guess I better leave you two alone, huh?”

“No—wait!” Spock gasped as the doctor ambled away, muttering something like, _goddamn twitterpated again_.

The shuttle bay was empty now, all the delegates and crew having left. It was just Spock and... _him_.

“I can’t believe it,” said the Captain—Jim, the doctor had called him. His dream had a name. _Jim_. “It’s really you.”

Spock’s brain leapt into action. He cleared his throat, training his facial features into a politely blank mask. “Captain...Kirk, was it? It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda. I humbly thank you for your hospitality on this journey.”

Jim’s heavenly face contorted into an expression of confusion. “We know each other. Don’t you recognize me?”

Vulcans do not lie. They do however...prevaricate. And sometimes, very rarely, _fib_.

“I do not recall meeting before,” Spock fibbed. “Perhaps you have me confused with another individual?”

“Yes,” said Jim slowly, almost seeming to deflate. His shoulders lowered dejectedly and the light in his eyes faded, and Spock suppressed the urge to scream, _I HAVE DREAMED OF YOU ALL MY LIFE BUT THOUGHT YOU TOO PERFECT TO BE REAL_. “I’m...sorry. You caught me off guard. It’s just that you look so much like...” Jim laughed awkwardly to himself and Spock nearly melted. Even his laugh was beautiful. “Never mind,” said Jim, gracing him with a bittersweet smile. “It’s good to meet you too. I hope you’ll be comfortable aboard the _Enterprise_.” He raised his hand in the _ta’al_. “Live long and prosper.”

Spock nodded stiffly, saluting back. “And you.”

“Here, I can take these.” Jim picked up the bags from the floor—Spock hadn’t even been aware he’d dropped them. Jim flashed him another luminous smile. “I’ll show you to your room, Mr. Spock.”

Spock silently followed after him out of the shuttle bay.

Vulcans do not swear. Profanity is a gauche, emotional display. Logical beings should be able to find more eloquent ways to express themselves. But if Vulcans _did_ swear, Spock would’ve been most certainly been thinking something along the lines of:

 _WHAT THE_ **_FUCK_** ** _?!_ **


	3. The Dinner Party

Spock stared at himself in the mirror, slowly buttoning his formal robes, but he didn’t really see his own reflection. A pair of arresting...Spock didn’t even know what color to call them...eyes were clouding his mind. He was so lost in his own thought that he didn’t even register his mother’s voice until she was right at his ear.

“Earth to Spock! Some of us would also like to use the mirror at some point.”

Spock jolted. “Oh! My apologies, Mother.” He stepped away to let her see herself.

“You’ve been so quiet ever since we came aboard,” Amanda commented, putting on her earrings, a gift from Sarek on her fiftieth birthday. “I would’ve thought you’d get out there and explore the ship. Oh, Spock, do promise you won’t be a mope on this trip.”

Spock frowned. “Mother, I am 36 years old. I do not mope.”

“I mean it, Spock. This will be good for you. Your first time off planet, being around other people who aren’t Vulcans...that nice Captain Kirk. He was about your age. Maybe you could make friends with him!”

Spock’s stomach twisted in his gut. “Mother, I think a ship’s captain will be too busy to entertain the son of the Vulcan Ambassadors.”

“Oh, you never know. He seemed quite the charmer. And so _handsome_.”

“Mother!” Spock gasped, blushing.

“Oh, not for me, dear, obviously. I’m much too deliriously in love with your father.” Amanda chuckled. “I just meant he’d be good for someone. His own age,” she added pointedly.

“Mother, what are you implying,” Spock said flatly.

“Oh, nothing, nothing...just that a certain someone will be needing a bondmate sooner than later...especially now that he’s no longer engaged.”

Spock turned away, fighting back the shame he felt. His father had been incredibly disapproving when he’d heard that T’Pring had chosen to break off their link to take Stonn as her mate instead of him. Betrothed since they were seven, it was a shock to everyone when Stonn had declared _kalifee_ at his own ceremony and had chosen Spock’s fiancée as his champion—and she’d agreed. And then won his hand. It had been an affront to the House of Sarek. But at least no one could blame Spock. Except Spock himself.

 _She refused you because you are a halfbreed. Your Vulcan blood is diluted_ , Stonn had mocked.

It wasn’t as if Spock had particularly loved T’Pring. But it was still an embarrassment. A black mark on his otherwise impressive reputation.

Amanda turned around and took hold of his wrist. “Stop blaming yourself. You’re worthy of better than that girl and you know it.”

“Yes, Mother,” Spock said in an empty voice.

“I knew linking you with a perfect stranger as a child was the wrong thing to do,” Amanda sighed. “But it was the Vulcan way. And your father is so traditional...but now you have a chance to find someone who _you_ choose. Someone you like...maybe even love.”

“Mother...”

“I know, love is illogical. Well, that’s the beautiful thing about it.” Amanda smiled up at him. “Now, tell your mother she looks beautiful.”

Spock gave her a small smile. “You are the most beautiful woman there is, Mother.”

“You bet your boots. And you...have buttoned your robes completely wrong,” Amanda laughed, reached up to fix them for him. “Honestly, Spock, where has your head been today?”

_I can’t believe it. It’s really you._

_Don’t you recognize me?_

Spock shuddered suddenly.

“Spock? What’s wrong?” Amanda asked.

Spock shook his head. That voice, those eyes, that smile...Jim was haunting him. “Nothing. It is merely cold in here,” he fibbed. “Are you certain I must attend you and Father at this dinner party? I am not an Ambassador-”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Spock, you’ve hid out in here all day. It won’t kill you to be social for an hour or two.” Amanda clicked her tongue at him. “You’re just like your father, I swear. I don’t understand why someone signs up to be a diplomat when they’re just going to act introverted all the time.”

Spock wasn’t averse to being around people, of course. It was just that he knew perfectly well that the senior staff of the _Enterprise_ would also be at the party... _he_ would be at the party. Spock wasn’t sure if he could look Jim in the eye again and pretend not to know him. Not when every bone in his body seemed to be screaming, _go to him_.

Why was it like this? Why was his very nature turning on him? Never before had an indivdual had such an effect on him. Never before had Spock felt so...out of control.

“My wife, my son, are you ready to go to dinner?” Sarek said, emerging from the alcove where he’d set up his meditation mat.

“Yes, dear. Oh, wait, let me grab my lipstick.”

Amanda disappeared into the bathroom and Sarek sighed. “I have told your mother repeatedly that if she used matte lipstick, she would not have to reapply after eating.”

“You know it makes her lips too dry,” Spock said, holding back his amusement.

“Not if one sufficiently moisturizes beforehand.” Sarek sighed. “At least you have inherited my good sense, my son.”

“Father...may I ask an illogical question?”

Sarek looked perturbed at the very thought, but nodded magnanimously. “I will strive to give you a logical answer.”

Spock pursed his lips. “Father...is it possible that a Vulcan could see into the future?”

“Precognition, my son? You know this is impossible for our people. Even Surak himself could not see the future, and he was the greatest mind Vulcan ever produced. Our minds are powerful, but even we have not achieved the power of prescience. Why do you ask?”

“I merely wondered, Father.”

Amanda emerged with a fresh coat of shiny red lipstick on. She grinned at them. “What are you two waiting on? Let’s go!”

* * *

Spock gripped his drink nervously. He wished he had a cup of spiced tea instead of this...Saurian brandy the doctor had pushed into his hand.

“This’ll put some hair on ya chest, slim,” McCoy laughed. Spock thought about informing him that there was already a sufficient amount of hair on his pectorals, but he let it go and merely accepted the drink.

He peered around nervously for the fifth time in the last two minutes. His parents had excused themselves to go and converse with their fellow diplomats, leaving Spock alone. Spock felt on edge, fearful that at any time—

“Hi.”

Spock managed not to jump in surprise. He peered out of the corner of his eye at Jim—Captain Kirk—at his elbow, in a green dress uniform that did nothing for him aesthetically, except for the green bringing out the unnamed hue of his eyes. Spock wanted to peer into them, study them closely...for scientific purposes of course. But he could not bring himself to look into Kirk’s eyes.

“We met earlier. Do you remember?” Jim gently whispered.

“I do,” Spock said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” Jim laughed in a self-conscious way. “I just came over to apologize. I made a perfect ass of myself, and now I’m sure you think I’m crazy.”

“I do not think that,” Spock said. “Although I do wonder...how did our meeting turn you into a donkey?”

Jim was quiet for a moment, then started laughing. Oh that laugh. Like sweet music in Spock’s ears. “Human expression. An ass isn’t just a donkey on earth. Sometimes it can mean...well...a person’s backside.”

“Oh,” Spock said, his cheeks heating up.

“But in this context, I meant I acted like a fool. It’s just that when I saw you...I could’ve sworn...” Jim’s voice faltered, and Spock watched him shake his golden head out of his peripheral. “Never mind. Forget it. Can we start over? Hi, I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the starship _Enterprise_. You must be Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Spock turned his body toward him slightly, nodded, staring at Jim’s eyebrows, still unable to meet his eyes, as much as he longed to. “I am indeed Spock. The pleasure is mine, Captain.”

“You can call me Jim if you like,” said Jim, smiling broadly. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“I hope you will not take this as an offense, Captain...but Vulcans do not make friends.”

Jim actually laughed at this. “Then what do you call someone who you know and who you’re fond of, but in a platonic way, who you’re not related to?”

“...I would call them by their name.”

Jim laughed again. “Well, I think you and I are going to be good friends, Vulcan or not.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

“How do you vote, Sarek of Vulcan?!”

A gruff voice caught the two men’s attention. They looked over and saw the Ambassador from Tellar, Gav, standing in front of Sarek with his chest puffed out.

“Why must you know, Tellarite?” sighed one of the delegates from Andor, Shras.

“In council, his vote carries others,” Gav said gruffly. “I will know where he stands and why!”

“Uh oh. Trouble,” Jim muttered, striding over at once. Spock set down his glass of untouched brandy and followed.

“Tellarites do not argue for reasons,” Sarek was saying loftily as they approached. “They simply argue.”

“No! You-!”

“Gentlemen,” said Jim in a calm yet commanding voice that got even Gav’s attention. “Ambassador Sarek is quite correct when he points out this is not the council chamber of Babel. I'm fully aware that the admission of Coridan is a highly debatable issue, but you won't solve it here.”

“You are correct, Captain,” Sarek said, nodding to him. “Quite logical.”

“My apologies, Captain,” Shras added.

Gav growled threateningly, but said in a semi-respectful voice, “You will excuse me,” and walked away in a huff.

“Crisis averted,” Jim muttered to Spock with a small, self-satisfied smile, and Spock’s admiration for the man doubled.

“Have you met Gav before, Ambassador?” Shras asked Sarek.

“We debated during my last council session, Ambassador,” Sarek replied.

“Ambassador Gav lost,” added Amanada proudly.

“Spock, ol boy, I see you finished that brandy I gave ya,” McCoy said, appearing from behind and slapping Spock on the shoulder gaily. “What did ya think?”

“While I thank you for providing me with libations, I feel compelled to tell you that Vulcans do not imbibe alcoholic beverages. We do not become intoxicated from them like you humans do.”

“So what does get Vulcans drunk?” McCoy said. “I ask from a purely medical point of view, of course.”

“Now, Bones, don’t antagonize our guests,” Jim scolded gently.

“Actually, Doctor, if you really must know: cocoa acts like an intoxicant for Vulcans,” Amanda said with a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes.

“Oh ho, really?” McCoy said, giving Spock a wicked grin. “Care for a chocolate martini, Spock? Or maybe you, Ambassador?”

“I prefer to keep my wits sharp, Dr. McCoy,” said Sarek, unamused.

Bones looked at Amanda. “Mrs. Sarek, I know about the rigorous training of the Vulcan youth, but tell me, did Spock ever run and play like the human children, even in secret?”

“Well...he did have a pet sehlat he was very fond of,” Amanda said.

“Sehlat?”

“It's sort of a fat teddy bear.”

McCoy lit up. “A _teddy bear?_ ” He grinned at Spock in disbelief.

Sarek was frowning hard at Amanda. “Excuse me, Doctor. It has been a rather long day for my wife.” He nodded to Kirk. “Captain.”

“Ambassador,” Kirk replied, nodding back.

“I’ll come with you,” Spock said.

“No, Spock, you are young. You should stay and mingle with your new...acquaintances.” Sarek led Amanda away and disappeared out the door.

Jim gave McCoy a look. “Why did you have to do that? Are you _trying_ to make me look bad in front of our guests?”

“I was just making conversation!” McCoy said defensively.

Jim looked at Spock. “Please give the Ambassador my deepest apologies. The doctor didn’t mean any disrespect, he’s just had a few too many.”

“I have had _one_ drink!” McCoy huffed.

“Believe me, my father was more disgruntled at my mother than the doctor,” Spock sighed.

McCoy giggled. “A _teddy bear._ ”

“Not precisely, Doctor. On Vulcan, the ‘teddy bears’ are _alive_ , and they have six-inch fangs,” Spock said flatly.

“Still.”

“ _Bridge to Captain Kirk_ ,” buzzed the intercom suddenly.

Jim frowned and walked over the speaker in the wall, and pressed the button. “Kirk here.”

“ _Keptin, seensores are registering an unidentified wessel pacing us_ ,” the ensign on the bridge reported in a thick Earth accent Spock couldn’t place. Something European.

“On my way,” Jim replied. “All duty personnel on Yellow Alert. Don't alarm the passengers. Kirk out.” He switched off the intercom and looked at Spock almost wistfully. “Duty calls. Can I see you later?” he asked. “I’d like to show you Engineering if you’re interested. Your mother told me you’re a professor in astrophysics, and that you’ve always had an interest in starship mechanics. Would you like that?”

Vulcans, if they’re wise, should always avoid emotional situations whenever possible. And Spock should logically avoid being around Jim like the Argelian plague. Nevertheless, he found himself nodding.

“Nova.” Jim smiled at him, and even from a distance, Spock felt blinded by his radiance. “See you soon.”

Spock’s eyes followed Jim as he left. Then he heard McCoy cough behind him. “Sure I can’t get you that drink?”


	4. Midnight Oil

Sleep had trouble coming to Spock that night. Logically, spending an entire day on edge should make one exhausted. Spock was certainly tired, but nevertheless, he tossed and turned in his bed. Finally, when sleep did befall Spock, it brought with it those dreams Spock had so desperately tried to escape in his youth.

He was back on the bridge of the ship—the _Enterprise_ , Spock realized. He hadn’t actually seen it in person, but this must be Jim’s dreamscape, just like the _kahs’wan_ had been his.

Just like before, Jim was sitting in the Captain’s chair, sitting in the middle of the room, staring into the viewscreen at the stars speeding by at warp speed. “Pretty, isn’t it?” Jim said to him without even turning around. “Wish I could’ve shown...” He sighed.

Spock swallowed, feeling a twinge of guilt. Was it wrong to make Jim think the dreams were nothing? Should he tell the truth? He stood up and looked down at himself, realizing for the first time that he was wearing a uniform identical to Jim’s, except blue instead of gold, and with less braiding on the sleeves.

Jim looked over his shoulder at him, eyes full of pain. “What is your name?” he entreated. “Please? You’ve been with me all my life and I’ve always wanted to know.”

Spock opened his mouth, but found his throat dry.

“Never mind,” Jim said, disheartened, getting up and striding over to the lift doors. “This whole thing is just a joke.”

“No, wait,” Spock said, finding his voice, but it was too late. He was staring up at the ceiling of his dark cabin, awake, alone.

Spock bit his bottom lip. “Computer,” he said hoarsely. “What time is it?”

“ _The time is 300 hours._ ”

He’d only gotten two standard hours of sleep. Spock may not need as much sleep as humans, but two hours wasn’t going to cut it. Yet Spock knew he was far too alert now to go back to sleep.

Spock’s stomach gurgled. He hadn’t eaten anything at the party—too nervous about seeing Kirk. Now he required sustenance.

Well...the ship must have a cafeteria for those working the late night/early morning shift, mustn’t it? And as a guest, they could hardly refuse to feed him. Spock resignedly got out of bed, slid his feet into his slippers, wrapped his dressing gown over his sleeping robe and silently left the suite without waking his parents in the other room.

The halls were almost deserted compared to the boards of crew members bustling about during waking hours. He passed a few people, but not many. Spock supposed they assigned less workers on the late shift. One crewman was kind enough to tell him that the “mess” was on Deck 2, so Spock rode the lift up.

But when the door to the mess slid open, Spock saw Jim sitting there, eating a sandwich.

Their eyes met at once.

“Oh-”

“I apologize, I didn’t intend-”

“I didn’t know you’d-”

The two men froze, then Jim laughed shyly, waving him over. “Come, sit. I’d love some company.”

Spock hesitated, then slid into the seat next to him. Jim smiled warmly at him, and Spock could see red cracks in the whites of his eyes. “You are not asleep,” Spock observed.

“You have a seamless grasp of the obvious, Mister Spock,” Jim said, and Spock’s cheeks inexplicably grew warm. He suspected he was being teased...but not in a cruel way.

“I was,” Jim admitted, smile fading. “But I had...sort of a bad dream.” He looked down at his lap.

Spock’s stomach twisted guiltily.

Jim looked up and smiled for him again. “What about you? Couldn’t sleep?”

Spock shook his head silently, offering no more information than that.

“I get it. Strange new place, hard to get used to. Don’t worry, soon enough the _Enterprise_ will feel like a home away from home. I know it does for me.”

Spock’s stomach gurgled loudly.

“Oh! Are you hungry?” Jim asked.

“I...yes. I didn’t eat at the party, I’m afraid.”

“Why didn’t you order something from the replicator in your room?”

Spock blushed. “I...did not know I had one. I do now.”

Jim chuckled good-naturedly. “I wish you’d said something. Do you want something from the replicator in here? I can give you my card.”

“Yes please.”

Jim pulled the card out of his pocket. “You’re a vegetarian, right? That’s good. It’ll show up on my record that I ate some vegetables today so Bones can get off my back about my diet. Too many burgers, not enough leafy greens.”

“I feel as if I am helping you cheat on your medical record,” Spock said, unable to fight off an amused smile.

“Nah. You’re just like...my proxy. For eating vegetables. I’ll work an extra half hour in the gym if that makes you feel any better.” Jim gave him a charming grin that made Spock’s cheeks heat up again. Suddenly an image of a shirtless, sweaty Jim appeared in his mind, his muscles taut and flexing, breath labored...

Spock shook his head slightly, blinking several times. Jim gave him a look of concern. “You alright?” he asked, his hand reaching out and lightly touching Spock’s arm.

They weren’t making direct physical contact because of Spock’s sleeve, so he couldn’t pick up Jim’s psychic waves. But he could pick up the human’s warmth, the heat of his touch blooming on Spock’s skin. For the first time since stepping onto the shuttle, Spock didn’t feel chilled. He wondered how it would feel to have those hands running all over his body...

“Are you okay?” Jim said. “You’re looking kind of flushed.”

“I’m fine,” Spock said quickly. “What should I order?”

“I don’t know,” Jim shrugged, sliding Spock his card across the table. “Order what you like.”

“Does the replicator have many Vulcan dishes programmed into it?”

“Well, uh...none that I know of,” Jim said sheepishly. “Are there any human dishes you like?”

“I...do not know of any,” Spock admitted. “This is my first time going off world.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Wait, _really?_ ”

“Yes,” Spock said.

“With all due respect...you need to get out more.”

“I’m a professor at the Vulcan Science Academy. The head of my department, actually. I work very hard.”

“They don’t give you vacation time at the VSA?” Jim asked, punching in a code into the replicator.

“I use the interim between semesters to work on personal scientific projects,” Spock replied.

“I mean _actual_ time off. Where you can relax and recharge, pursue some non-work related interests. Weren’t you ever curious about what else was out there?”

A covered tray materialized in the replicator. Jim took it out and set it before Spock. Spock didn’t touch it, but instead considered Jim’s question. “I suppose I was,” he admitted. “It is a good thing I will be spending a sabbatical in the Beta quadrant after this sojourn is over.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “That’s so far! How long will you be gone for?”

“The plan is two years.”

“And this is what you want?”

Spock opened his mouth. “I...it is a big honor.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Spock looked at Jim. “What about you, Captain Kirk? Is this what you have always wanted?”

“God, yes,” Jim laughed. “I worked my _ass_ off as a cadet to be where I am today. I’ve known since I was a kid running through the Iowan wheat fields that I was going to sit in a captain’s chair someday.”

“Then you are to be congratulated.”

Jim sighed, leaning on his elbows. “There is...one drawback to this life I never anticipated.”

“And that is?”

Jim smiled at him sadly. “I’m lonely.”

Spock tilted his head at him. “You are surrounded by people.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean...I want to get married.”

Spock’s spine stiffened, and he sat back. “To whom?”

Jim pulled his gaze from Spock to the tabletop. “Someone I love.”

“And you have someone in mind?”

“Well I thought...” Jim sighed. “No. Just chasing a dream.”

Spock swallowed.

“This will sound silly, I’m sure. But what I want is to find someone to love, marry them, and spend my life with them.”

“It is not...so absurd,” Spock said generously.

Jim chuckled. “What about you? Got someone...special? Or are you uninterested in all that?”

“I am...unattached.”

It was the truth.

“Well...” Jim smiled wistfully at Spock, placing his hand gently over Spock’s wrist. “There must be someone out there for us. After all...” Jim’s expression turned mischievous. “We are a pair of knockouts, if I do say so myself.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “I assure you, I am against violence. I do not ‘knock people out.’”

Jim burst into laughter, the sound like golden music to Spock’s ears. “Another human euphemism, Spock. What it means is...you’re incredibly good looking.” His sparkling eyes seemed to bore into Spock’s very soul.

“Oh.” Spock blushed for a third time. “I...thank you. You are...aesthetically pleasing as well.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Jim smirked. Then he yawned and got up from his seat. “Think I’d better try to go catch a few more hours of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’re still on for that tour of Engineering, right?”

Spock opened his mouth. He really should cancel. He would stay as far away from Jim Kirk as possible, if he were smart.

“Of course.”

He was a fool.

Jim smiled brightly. “Great.” He walked toward the door and called over his shoulder as he left, “It’s spaghetti carbonara.”

Spock thought his universal translator must be malfunctioning, having no idea what the words meant. Then he realized Jim must’ve meant the dish he’d ordered for him. Curious, Spock lifted the cover.

Before him was a bowl of stringy things covered in an oily substance of some sort. There were dark specks of some kind of spice, and clumps of green, some leafy vegetable, amidst the strings. It smelled appetizing, whatever it was. Spock poked at it and managed to catch some of the strings on his fork, then brought the bite to his lips.

It was unlike anything Spock had ever tasted, so rich in textures and spices. It was delicious. Spock’s eyes fluttered shut as he experienced his first foray into the world of pasta.

* * *

“Spock, you look so tired,” Amanda said the next morning over breakfast. She put her thumb under his chin to gaze into his eyes with concern.

Spock averted his gaze into the beige substance his mother had replicated for him—“oat meal,” she had called it. Despite its unappetizing appearance, it was fairly satisfying. Spock pushed her hand and away and said curtly, “I’m _fine._ ”

Amanda tilted her head at him. “You sound cranky.”

“I am a Vulcan, we do not get _cranky_ ,” Spock repeated.

“You must be tired. Perhaps you ought to go back to bed-”

“I am adequate.” Spock was telling the truth. He _wasn’t_ tired. If anything, he felt strangely energized. He thought about seeing Jim and their _private tour_ of the ship and it made his whole self perk up in anticipation. He stood, suddenly unable to eat. “Excuse me, I wish to see the ship today.”

“Oh good,” Amanda said, concerns quelled at Spock’s sudden interest at getting out of the guest suite. “Enjoy yourself, sweetie!”

Spock met Jim by the turbolift. “I thought I’d show you the bridge first,” Jim said with a grin. “You can meet the senior crew.”

“If you think it’s best.” Spock nodded, getting into the lift beside him.

They rode in silence for several seconds, then Spock turned to look at the Captain. Jim looked up at him and smiled back.

“Captain...Jim. May I ask a personal question?”

Jim’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Go ahead.”

“The color of your irises...I have never contacted anyone with the same hue in their eyes. They seem to be multiple colors at once. What color do you call them?”

Jim laughed. “That’s all? I thought it was going to be something truly damning. To answer your question, my eyes are hazel. And while they might be an unknown color on your planet, they’re quite common on Earth.”

“Somehow, I find it hard to believe your eyes could be considered unremarkable in any setting,” Spock said without thinking.

Jim’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. His hazel eyes turned down to the floor of the lift, and his lips curved into a shy smile. “Why, Mister Spock...if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me,” he murmured teasingly.

Spock’s eyes opened wide. “No! I mean, that is not what I-”

Suddenly the lift doors slid open, leading out onto the bridge. Jim flashed him another roguish smile before striding out of the lift.

As Spock glanced around the circular room, he wasn’t surprised to see that everything was as he expected. The captain’s chair, the navigation panel, the science station...all that was different were the people.

“Keptin on ze bridge!” an officer announced, everyone jumping to their feet.

“At ease,” said Jim, waving a hand. “I’d like to introduce S’chn T’Gai Spock of the House of Sarek. He’s one of our guests from Vulcan, and he’s also very interested in starship operations.”

Spock was impressed. Jim had learned his formal name. And he’d pronounced it almost entirely correctly.

“Starting clockwise. This is Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, Chief of Communications.”

“So nice to meet you,” said a pretty human woman with large earrings, giving a bright smile. “I’ve heard you play the Vulcan lyre quite beautifully.”

Jim looked at him. “I didn’t know you were musical.”

“My father is more skilled at the lyre than I,” Spock said modestly, ducking his head.

“And this is Lieutenant M’Ress, acting science officer.”

“It is a pleasurrrre to mmmmake your acquaintance,” purred the Caitian, blinking her large yellow eyes at him.

“Acting science officer?” Spock inquired.

“Our old one, Commander Una Hudac, was given her own command of a science station on Earth Outpost 11. She just left us last week,” Jim explained. “Starfleet is supposed to be sending us a replacement soon, but for right now, the Lieutenant here is good enough to fill in.

“Now this is our Chief of Operations-”

“Ensign Pavel Chekov, sir!” squeaked the officer, jumping up from his seat. He was a human, quite young for his position. He was the one with the thick accent. “I have read your publication on subspace pulsars—it vas genius vork!” Chekov said, beaming up at Spock.

“I am flattered,” Spock said, nodding.

“Helmsman Hikaru Sulu, pilot...”

“Hi there,” said Sulu, waving cheerfully.

“Petty officer Sally Daniels, Chief of Security Luis Salazar, and finally, Chief of Engineering, Commander Montgomery Scott.”

“Call me Scotty—everyone else does,” said Scott genially in a Scottish brogue. “I reckon ye’ll wanna be seein’ the engine room later on.”

“I’ve told Mister Scott of your prowess in science,” Jim said, smiling warmly at Spock.

“Yes, that sounds most fasc-”

Suddenly, a voice sounded from the comm system. “ _Security to Captain Kirk._ ”

“Excuse me,” said Jim, stepping toward his chair and pressing a button on its control panel. “Kirk here.”

“ _Lieutenant Joseph, sir. I'm on deck eleven, section A3. I've just found one of the Tellarites murdered. I think it's the ambassador himself, sir._ ”

Jim’s eyes widened. He cast a look at Spock across the room.


	5. The Flame Grows Higher

“You should go back to your cabin, Spock,” said Jim as they got off of the turbolift together on Deck 11.

“I would prefer to accompany you. Perhaps I can be of assistance.” Spock was doubtful as to how much help he could actually be...but letting Jim out of his sight now was anathema to him. He suddenly felt very protective of the human, like a primal instinct.

Jim sighed. “I won’t order you. But be warned...this could be ugly.”

They turned a corner and found Doctor McCoy bent over the body of Gav, the ambassador’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Spock pursed his lips.

“How was he killed?” Jim asked McCoy, kneeling beside him.

“His neck was broken. By an expert,” McCoy stated, scanning him solemnly with his medical tricorder.

“Explain.”

“Well, from the nature and location of the break, I'd say the killer knew exactly where to apply pressure to snap the neck instantly.”

Spock’s stomach suddenly twisted as he studied the Tellarite’s body, the arrangement unnervingly familiar.

“Who aboard would have that knowledge?” Jim said.

“Vulcans,” said Spock hoarsely.

Jim and McCoy looked up in surprise.

“On Vulcan, the method is called _tal-shaya,_ ” Spock continued. “It was considered a merciful form of execution in ancient times.”

“Spock. A short time ago, I broke up an argument between Gav and your father. This morning at the breakfast banquet for the ambassadors, just before I met you,” Jim said.

“Indeed, Captain? Interesting...” Spock was staring at Jim’s neck, imagining ravaging with his teeth, leaving a mark there, letting all who saw it know he was taken...

“Interesting?” McCoy repeated incredulously. “Spock, do you realise that makes your father the most likely suspect?!”

“Vulcans do not approve of violence,” Spock growled, even though he was currently imagining putting his fist through the doctor’s face. Why was he here? Couldn’t he just leave him and Jim alone?

“You're saying he couldn't have done it?” Jim asked.

The golden man’s voice centered him, and Spock shook his head slightly. He refocused on the conversation at hand. “No, Captain. I'm merely saying it would be illogical to kill without reason.”

“But if he had a reason, could he have done it?”

Spock thought for a moment, and then admitted. “If there were a reason, my father is quite capable of killing. Logically and efficiently.”

“I think we better go and question the ambassador,” said McCoy. He looked at Spock and added, “To see if he’s got an alibi, of course.”

“I...” Spock felt strange...feverish, almost. “I will accompany you.”

“Are you sure?” Jim asked, sympathetically touching his arm. “We can’t ask you to interrogate your own father, Spock.”

Even through the fabric of his robe, the human’s touch burned. And yet...Spock wanted more. Wanted Jim to touch him all over. With his hands...with that hot human mouth...

Spock jerked away, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Yes. I wish to assist you.”

“That’s awfully brave,” said Jim, giving him a soft smile, and Spock felt calm again.

McCoy coughed pointedly. “Well, come on if you’re comin’.”

* * *

Amanda answered the door when the trio arrived at Spock’s parents’ cabin. “Mrs. Sarek, I'm sorry to disturb you. I must speak to your husband,” said Jim, once again in that commanding tone that garnered immediate respect.

“He's been gone for some time. It's his habit to meditate in private before retiring.” Amanda frowned. “What's wrong? Spock?”

Sarek emerged from the bedroom, smelling of meditation incense. “You want something of me, Captain?” he asked.

“Ambassador, the Tellarite. Gav has been murdered,” Jim reported. Amanda covered her mouth with her hand in shock.

“His neck was broken, Mister Ambassador, by what Spock describes as _tal-shaya_.”

“Indeed? Interesting,” said Sarek in a neutral tone, and for once Spock wished his father would show some emotion—shock, concern, _anything_ that would make him sound innocent.

“Yes,” said Jim, and it was clear to Spock he hated questioning the Ambasador like this. “Ambassador, where were you during the past hour?”

“Captain, you're not accusing him?” Amanda gasped.

“Mother. If only on circumstantial evidence, he is a logical suspect,” Spock said regretfully.

“I quite agree,” Sarek added, much to his wife’s chagrin.

“Then where were you during the hour?” Jim inquired.

“In private meditation, Captain. Spock will tell you that such meditation is a personal experience, not to be discussed. especially not with Earthmen.”

“That's a very convenient excuse, Ambassador.”

Suddenly, Sarek’s knees buckled, and braced himself against the edge of the table as his whole body sagged. The other four immediately sprang to catch him.

“Sarek. Sarek,” said Amanda frantically as they helped Sarek into a chair. “What's wrong?”

“It's difficult to say with Vulcan physiology, but I believe it's something to do with his cardiovascular system,” McCoy rattled off. 

“Can you help him?”

“I don't know that yet either.”

* * *

“Hell of a week for M’Benga to take a vacation—he studied medicine specifically on Vulcan,” Jim groaned, rubbing his forehead. He and Spock had retreated into the Captain’s quarters after Sarek had been admitted into sickbay. Jim looked at Spock. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be with your father, Spock? You’re a guest on the _Enterprise_ , it’s not your responsibility to solve this mystery.”

Spock shook his head. “There is no logical reason for me to stay in the sickbay when I could be putting my intellect to use. My father would agree with my reasoning. Besides, my mother will be by my father’s side. My place is here, with you.”

Jim blushed slightly at that, and he looked away. “I appreciate your help, Spock. But...aren’t you worried about him?”

Spock steeled his gaze. “Worry is a human emotion, Captain. I accept what has happened.”

“All I know is that...if it were my father...well, I’d be distracted, to say the least.”

“Has your father ever been aboard the _Enterprise_?” Spock inquired.

Jim’s eyes widened in surprise, then he looked away. “My parents passed away when I was very young.”

Spock’s heart ached for the man. He rose and placed his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “I grieve with thee,” he said softly.

Jim smiled sadly. “Thank you. I...I like to think they would’ve been proud of me.”

“A Captain of a starship, at such a young age? I am certain of it, although I never knew them. Were your parents also involved in Starfleet?”

“Oh, yes. That’s what led them to...” Jim trailed off, a haunted look appearing in his hazel eyes. He shook his head slightly and looked up at Spock, giving him a wan smile. “Never mind. We’re getting off track. Gav’s murder. Sarek’s sudden collapse. There’s no way they’re not a coincidence, is there?”

“It is highly unlikely...yet it is possible. My father is 102–he may well be experiencing some early onset health problems due to his age. The life of an Ambassador is a stressful one to say the least.”

“I guess we won’t know what caused it till Bones completes his biopsy...well, let’s focus on Gav. Did the Tellarite have any enemies? Do you know?”

“From what my parents have relayed to me, the Tellarite Ambassador did not ingratiate him to many, but I can think of no one who would have had a personal vendetta against him. The motive is likely political.”

“Gav was against the admission of Coridan into the Federation—maybe someone wants Coridan to join bad enough that they would kill anyone who opposed it.”

“A citizen of Coridan, perhaps? Or perhaps the Romulans sent an agent to disrupt the summit?”

“Maybe...there was also a ship discovered tailing us this morning. Unknown scout vessel, very sneaky tech, unknown to any Starfleet records on any alien culture’s ship design—I’ve got to figure how all that ties in too.” Jim sighed in frustration and sat down across from Spock, drumming his fingertips on the desk. “We can speculate all we want, but the fact is there’s just not enough evidence to come up with a solid theory.”

“I must concur.” Spock watched those restless fingers hungrily. His mouth suddenly watered at the thought of drawing one into his mouth and-

Spock blinked rapidly. What was _happening_ to him? He refocused his train of thought on the matter at hand: Gav’s murder. He pictured the scene in his mind again, suppressing a shudder at the gory details. “Gav was suspended from the ceiling...”

“He wasn’t doing acrobatics, that’s for sure,” said Jim, actually shuddering.

“It was as if his body was put on display...a showcase of what his killer had done.”

“Hey, _yeah_ ,” Jim said, snapping his fingers. “Someone _wanted_ him found. His death wasn’t just an assassination—it was a _statement_. If it was just a grudge, they’d have made the effort to hide the body.” Jim clasped Spock’s shoulder, grinning brightly. “You’re brilliant, has anyone ever told you that?”

Spock smirked. “Many times, Jim.”

“Of course they have,” Jim laughed, his eyes twinkling. Spock starred into them, transfixed. Jim’s smile slowly faded, his breath catching, and Spock’s sensitive ears caught it. Jim slowly slid his hand down Spock’s arm. Spock closed his eyes as Jim slowly leaned across the desk toward him...

The comm suddenly let out a boatswain whistle, causing both men to jump in fright. Jim cleared his throat, punching the talk button. “Kirk here.”

“ _Captain? I picked up the last part of a transmission. Just like that other one_ ,” Lieutenant Uhura’s voice buzzed out from the comm. “ _I put the recorder and the directional locator on it immediately_.”

Chekov’s voice came through next. “ _I’ve already calculated ze source bearing, sir. Eet's the intruder ship._ ”

“ _Sir, the directional locator indicates reception point somewhere within the body of this ship_ ,” Uhura chimed in.

“A personal receiver?” Jim wondered aloud. “Somebody on board is in contact with that vessel?” He bit his bottom lip, thinking, then said, “Lieutenant, you've got your sensor locator on a wide beam. You've established a receiver on board this vessel. Tighten your field to the interior of the ship.”

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

“If that alien vessel starts transmitting again, I want to know who on board the Enterprise is receiving.” The comm blinked off and Jim looked at Spock. “I don’t like all this cloak and dagger, Spock. Not one little bit.”

Spock rose from his seat. “Perhaps my science skills would be better served decoding the ship’s encrypted transmission, sir.”

“Spock, Lieutenant M’Ress says there’s no pattern so I don’t know if—hey.” Jim had put his hand on Spock’s shoulder again, but this time a little too close to his neck, his fingertips brushing his skin. Spock actually shivered at the touch. Jim frowned and put the back of his hand to Spock’s forehead. “Spock, you’re _warm_.”

“I’m quite alright, Captain-”

“No you’re not! Vulcans aren’t supposed to feel warm, they’re cool-blooded. Spock, you have a fever!”

Spock pulled Jim’s hand away from his forehead, but then clasped it in his own hand. “I am fine, Jim-”

“Oh no you’re not! Spock, you’re getting sick. Here, lie down here...” Jim coaxed Spock onto his bed and made him lie back.

Spock smirked at him. “If you wanted me in your bed, you had only to ask,” he said slyly as Jim pulled the covers over him.

“Fever _and_ deliriousness—this is serious,” Jim murmured. “I’m going up to sickbay to tell Bones. Promise me you’ll stay right here. Please?”

Spock exhaled, suddenly very tired. “Yes, Jim. If you wish.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

Spock may have imagined it, but he thought Jim cupped his hand against Spock’s cheek for a moment before departing. But Spock was asleep before the electronic doors had even closed behind him.

* * *

 _Spock was standing on the sands of Vulcan, on the grounds of his_ **_kahs’wan_** _. But he was an adult now. He looked down and realized he was wearing nothing but a simple sarong. His hair, long enough to reach the small of his back, was blowing wild and free in the breeze._

_He heard an eerie sound echo across the desert, like singing, and he jerked his head around. Wait. That hill. So familiar..._

_Moving like a predator, he darted through the red sand in his bare feet. He reached the apex of the dune and gazed into the valley._

**_Shi’masu_** _. Oasis. The oasis that had saved him as a boy from dying during his kahs’wan._

_And lying under a tree beside the lush pond, gloriously naked and touching himself...was Jim._

_Spock’s nostrils flared as he stared, transfixed, at the glorious sight. Jim—eyes closed and concentrating hard on his own pleasure—opened his mouth and again, that sound rang out. But it was more like moaning this time. It drew Spock in uncontrollably. He trudged down the dune, focused only on his prey._

_Jim’s entrancing eyes opened when Spock was within ten feet of him. “Please,” he begged desperately, slowing his hand—putting on a show. He arched against the sand, his golden skin a lovely contrast to the scarlet around him. “Please,_ **_ashayam_** _.”_

_The word made Spock’s blood burn, his already hard member swelling even more. He bent over him, grabbing the wrist that Jim was stroking himself with. “_ **_T’nash-veh_ ** _,” he snarled._

_“Yes,” Jim sobbed. “Yours.”_

_Without looking away, Spock reached down and undid his sarong, letting it flutter away in the wind. Then he placed his hands on the undersides of Jim’s legs and pushed them up, letting the human’s ankles rest on his shoulders._

_Jim moaned again, arching toward him. “Yes,_ **_yes!_** _”_

_Spock took his cock, already dripping wet, in hand, pressed the head to Jim’s entrance, and-_

“Spock.”

It was Jim saying Spock’s name, but it wasn’t coming from the one underneath him. Spock opened his eyes to see the real Jim kneeling beside him in the bed.

“Spock...this isn’t going to be easy to hear,” said Jim with a troubled look. “Your father. He desperately needs an operation, and a blood transfusion. We don’t have near enough T-negative to save his life. Your mom says you have the same blood type as him. I know you’re sick...but you have to help him. Now, there’s an experimental drug-”

“Jim,” Spock rasped hoarsely. “I cannot leave this bed.”

“I...can have Bones send down some orderlies to load you up on a stretcher-”

“No, Jim.” Spock couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. “Only you...can help me now...I’m dying.”


	6. When The Levee Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the gratuitous porn chapter!

“My people call it...pon farr.”

Jim sat on the bed beside him, watching him with a wide-eyed expression.

Spock sighed. “It is not considered appropriate conversation, especially with outsiders.”

“Spock, this is your _life_ hanging in the balance! Forget about decorum! What is pon farr?”

“It is what you would call...our mating season. Every seven years, adult Vulcans must...take a mate...exorcise those primal urges...or perish.”

“Wait. Let me get this straight—and pardon my language here—you have to fuck someone...or you _die?_ ”

“I told you it is crude subject material.” Spock blushed. “But it is more than simple...love-making. The blood fever—the one coursing through my veins at this very moment—it strips us of all logic. I...had hoped I would not have to endure this indignity.” Spock averted his gaze. “I am half human, and thought my mother’s blood would save me from this fate.”

“Stop being embarrassed,” Jim said, squeezing his hand. “It’s just _nature_. It’s like puberty, right? When humans mature, our skin sprouts hair and oily carbuncles all over our bodies. It’s not shameful, it’s just what naturally happens. What did you do during your last pon farr?”

“I...this is my first,” Spock admitted, blushing. “I seem to have been something of a...‘late bloomer.’ If I was still tied to T’Pring, I would require her.”

“But you’re not anymore. You said you needed...” Jim gulped. “Me.”

Spock nodded. “Jim...I cannot explain it. But I am...linked to you, somehow. I believe that you are the catalyst to my Time. This is why if it is to be anyone, it must be you.”

Jim blushed, looking down at their joined hands. He laughed nervously. “Heh...if I couldn’t feel how feverish you are, I’d say you were making all this pon farr stuff up just to get in my pants. All you had to do was ask nicely.” He batted his eyelashes at Spock jokingly.

“Jim...” Spock brought the human’s hand to his lips. “I know this isn’t ideal. You deserve a proper coupling with a real partner, not one for the sake of mercy with a man you barely know.” He kissed his knuckles lightly. “I...don’t have the experience you have, but I will strive to make it...pleasurable, and as painless as possible-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jim put his palm to Spock’s chest. “You think I wouldn’t enjoy it? Spock...I don’t know how things are done on your planet romance-wise, but...I’ve been flirting with you since you came aboard. And I’m sorry if that’s what triggered this whole thing—I’m probably not the ideal partner for you-”

“Jim,” Spock said sternly. “You are...as perfect a partner as I could ever dream of.”

Jim’s face flushed even redder. “Then...you really want this? It’s not just to save your life? I mean, I’d let you have me either way, but-”

Spock sat up and kissed Jim deeply, turning Jim’s words into a delicious moan. “Spock,” the human breathed.

“Am I executing this correctly?” Spock said huskily. “I have never kissed anyone before.”

“N-... _never?_ ” Jim’s eyes popped open. “First of all, don’t worry about it, you’re literally taking my breath away, but second of all...am I to gather that you’re...a _virgin?_ ”

“Is this unappealing to you?”

“Spock, I don’t care if you’ve had zero partners or a million, it’s just...this is your first time. And it should be special.” Jim’s brow furrowed. “And I’m gonna make sure it is. Follow my lead.”

He leaned in to kiss Spock again, softer, slower, but with the same passion. Spock felt something flood through him, something more than just animal lust. Jim kissed him like he was something delicate and precious. It made him want to take his time and do this right, like Jim wanted.

“Can’t believe _I’m_ the one,” Jim murmured, moving to pepper Spock’s jaw with tiny kisses. “Can’t believe I’m the one who gets to do this to you.”

“Jim,” Spock whispered, positively shaking. “Is this normal?”

“Oh yes, sweetheart. It just means you want this as much as I do.” Jim lifted a handful of Spock’s robe. “Can I...take this off you?”

Spock nodded and showed Jim where the clasp was, and soon Spock’s robe was on the floor, joined quickly by Jim’s trousers. Spock looked from his white underclothes to Jim’s black undershirt and boxer briefs and thought, _how well we compliment each other, without even trying_.

Jim crawled on top of Spock, nestling into him. “Now that those pesky clothes are out of the way...let me love you properly.”

Cradling Spock’s head, Jim kissed him deeply, over and over, his tongue occasionally darting out to give teasing licks. Finally when Spock parted his lips, Jim slipped inside and Spock found out there was a whole other level to kissing. His hand found Jim’s and he stroked their fingers together.

“Like this?” Jim asked, running his fingers up and down Spock’s. “Is this how Vulcans kiss?”

“It is a fair analogy,” Spock said, luxuriating in the feeling of Jim’s fingers on his, his telepathic synapses crackling, but he daren’t let his shields down, even for a moment.

Jim turned his attention back to Spock’s neck, as if he was determined not to leave one square inch of Spock’s flesh unattended. Even through Spock’s shields he could feel Jim’s pride in making Spock feel this way, his joy at getting the chance to, and his desire...for him, only him. Jim’s radiance was laser pointed at him right now and Spock had never felt so elated. Jim nipped the lobe of Spock’s ear and gently tugged, then traced the curve of it with his tongue right to the pointed tip, then he repeated the process on Spock’s other side.

“Jim,” Spock gasped, writhing beneath him, feeling answering need straining in Jim’s briefs. “Please, I-”

“I know, beautiful,” Jim sighed, trailing a hand down Spock’s body, just stopping short of the bulge at his groin. “You have no _idea_ how much I want you. Now...” Jim plucked at the fabric of Spock’s undergarments. “I’d like to see what you’ve been hiding from me.”

“You first,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow and grabbing the hem of Jim’s shirt.

“So bossy,” Jim tutted. He winked as he grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifted his arms, and discarded the fabric onto the floor. The golden bronze of his face and arms was also present on his chest, Spock was pleased to see, as well as two pert pink nipples and a slightly convex belly. Spock also thought he could detect two very faint scars under Jim’s pectorals. He ran his hands greedily down the human’s warm torso. Jim tugged at Spock’s coverling. “Now. Fair is fair, mister.”

“Who is being bossy now?” Spock said, sitting up so he could find the small buttons.

“I’m not bossy, I’m just the boss,” Jim replied cheekily.

As Spock slipped out of his underclothes, Jim stood up and slowly, teasingly, pulled down his briefs. He turned his back to Spock as he did so, so Spock could see Jim’s perfectly sculpted posterior before he turned and revealed a thick pink cock jutting out proudly from a meticulously trimmed patch of blonde curls and a pair of testicles hanging underneath. Spock immediately desired to take Jim in his mouth and pleasure him till Jim was hoarse from crying his name.

Jim grinned as he returned to the bed and straddled Spock’s hips. “You’re _perfect_ ,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss him once again. Their cocks rubbed together as they kissed and they moaned into each other’s mouths, getting more and more aroused. Jim reached down and grasped both their cocks in his warm hand. Despite his fever, Jim’s touch burned, and Spock gasped, arching into his touch.

“So beautiful like this,” Jim whispered in between kisses.

“Jim,” Spock gasped, hips jerking beneath the radiant human. “I...I believe I’m about to-”

Spock’s breath hitched as he spilled into Jim’s hand, his vision going white as he completely lost himself to pure bliss. “Jim...Jim...” he breathed, panting.

“Wow...” Jim said softly. “You are _stunning_. And...whoa, you’re still hard.”

Spock slowly opened his eyes, coming down from the explosion of pleasure. “I’m afraid that will not be enough,” he whispered apologetically. “The _plak-tow_ requires-”

“Shhh...” Jim kissed his brow. “I think I know what you need.”

Jim got up, and Spock missed his warm, sturdy body on top of him. Jim pulled a white tube out of his nightstand. Settling himself back on top of Spock again, he squirted a dollop of translucent gel from the tube onto his own fingers and reached behind himself. “It’s been awhile since I bottomed,” Jim said to Spock apologetically.

Spock realized Jim was _opening himself_ to receive Spock’s member inside him and he blushed. He stared at Jim’s neglected cock, swollen and leaking at the tip. “May I...stimulate you?” Spock asked, reaching for him.

“Mm-mm,” Jim grunted as he slipped a third finger inside himself. “You touch me now, and I’ll come. I’m not lucky enough to have that non-existent Vulcan refractory period.”

Spock contented himself with stroking his hands up and down Jim’s back instead. “You are...so very beautiful,” he whispered.

Jim laughed shyly as he slowly pulled his fingers out. “And you, my friend, are a work of art.”

Spock felt warm pressure against the head of his cock as Jim adjusted himself atop his hips and Spock sucked in an anticipatory breath.

Both men groaned as Jim sunk down on him. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Jim gasped, his tight, hot body squeezing Spock deliciously. “Spock...you feel wonderful...”

“Jim,” Spock called, resisting the urge to thrust upward and fuck the human senseless. His fists clenched the bedclothes.

And then Jim began to _move_.

Slowly at first, Jim started to ride Spock, the burning hot, velvety feeling around him the most wonderous sensation Spock had ever felt, Jim gripping him so tight and so _right_. But after a minute, Jim began to speed up.

“Mmm...Spock,” Jim sighed, head falling back as he reached down to take himself in hand...

Spock couldn’t not bear to just lie there and let Jim give and give any longer. He seized Jim’s wrist, wrapping the other arm around his back, and rolled them over so he was on top.

“Oh!” Jim cried in surprise.

Spock pinned Jim’s arms to the mattress. “Allow me,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss that beautiful mouth, and he began to gently thrust his hips into that tight entrance.

Jim was moaning and writhing beneath him. “Spock...fuck...are you _sure_ you’re a virgin?!”

Spock allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, and increased the speed and force of his thrusts, feeling that wonderful feeling rise again in his groin. He reached between their bellies and fisted Jim’s leaking cock, leaning forward to gently bite his neck.

“ _Gah!_ ” Jim squealed, but he didn’t sound affronted in the slightest. Spock soothingly lapped over the mark with his tongue.

As their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the fire in their bellies mounted, drawing them both closer and closer to their apex.

“Oh Spock,” Jim gasped, panting hard. “Spock, I’m so close...don’t stop!”

“Jim, _t’nash-veh ashau kin-kur_ , thou who shines brighter than any sun,” Spock babbled, the blood fever in full effect, consuming his mind with nothing but need, the universe condensing itself into this one man in his arms. “Jim...I-”

Spock came for the second time, the pressure inside bursting like a long dormant volcano. Spock opened his eyes to see his beloved’s face twisted into the most gorgeous configuration of rapture as he climaxed in Spock’s hand, spilling over his knuckles and onto his own belly.

Spock shuddered at the sight and sensation. If he could’ve made the moment last forever, he would have.

But eventually they did both come back down, and Spock lowered his body on top of Jim’s, too boneless to move. The fever had run its course. The Pon Farr was over.

Jim was breathing heavily. “Holy...oh my... _fuck_.”

“I must concur,” Spock mumbled into his chest.

Jim laughed weakly, coaxing Spock to look up at him, his hazel eyes sparkling in the same way as they had the day he and Spock had first met. Only two short days ago, Spock realized. 48 brief hours and he’d fallen right into the bed of the very man of his dreams.

“Are you alright?” Even though Jim trained his face into an expression of concern, it did nothing to dim his radiant smile or the light in his eyes.

“I am...yes. I believe you have...relieved me...of my ailment.” Spock closed his eyes, cheeks burning in embarrassment despite his exhilaration.

“Well...believe me, I was more than happy to oblige,” Jim chuckled. “You were _wonderful_.”

“Have I hurt you?” Spock said, attempting to sit up, suddenly feeling a protective need to check Jim over.

“No, _God_ , no,” Jim sighed with what could only be satisfaction. “Granted, I may not be able to sit in my chair tomorrow. You took me for quite the ride.” He grinned devilishly.

“You strike quite a commanding profile in that chair, almost as if you were made for it,” Spock commented without thinking.

Jim was silent for a moment. “...how do you know what I look like sitting in my chair?” he asked quietly.

Spock grew tense as his dreams of Jim flashed before his eyes. Were he not Vulcan, he would be thinking, _oh shit._ “You took me on a tour of the Bridge earlier today, do you not remember?” he quickly deflected.

“I never sat in my chair. I was too busy introducing you to the crew.” Jim sat up, staring him down. Spock refused to look him in the eye.

“It _is_ you. The man from my dreams,” Jim said. “The one I’ve had dreams about all my life! And you recognized me the second you saw me in shuttle bay! Why did you pretend not to know me?!”

Spock sighed, getting out of bed and starting to put his clothes back on. “It is...complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it? You _lied_ , plain and simple!”

“Vulcans do not lie.”

“That’s bullshit. Hiding the truth is just the same as lying. Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was? I’ve been out of my mind the last two days! This perfect, beautiful man I’ve dreamt about my entire life waltzes right onto my ship and then he looks straight past me like I’m... _nothing_ .” Jim looked down at his lap morosely, and Spock felt the urge to grab him and hold him till Jim’s smile returned again. “And then you tell me I’ve made you have this pon farr thing and you... Jim’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “... _make love to me_...”

Spock’s cheeks burned. Such a saccharine euphemism for such a carnal act...yet it was accurate.

“And now I find out you’ve known who I am this whole time? I mean, what _is_ this, Spock? Do I mean anything to you at all?”

“Jim, you must believe me...I do not understand this either. Until two days ago, I thought you were a mere fiction my mind had constructed—an imaginary friend of sorts. But I thought it was simply childish nonsense. That’s why I began suppressing my dreams when I became an adult.”

Jim looked up. “Is that why I stopped having the dreams until a few days ago? You were stopping them?”

Spock nodded. “Apparently whatever...connection we share was strong enough to override my mental facilities. Or I became lax as time went on. I suspect it is a combination of the two.”

Jim rubbed his lip. “I remember a vivid one from when I was very young. I was in a desert of red sand at night, standing by a pond...I saw flickering light over the top of a dune. I climbed it and saw a young Vulcan boy lying beside a campfire. I waved to him—I wanted to play. He chased me, but then...”

“I woke up,” Spock finished for him. “What you witnessed was my _kahs’wan_ , a ritual Vulcan children undergo to prove their ability to fend for themselves, dating back to the archaic times when my people were fierce warriors instead of scientists and philosophers. And you saved my life that night,” he added. “I would have surely succumbed to dehydration and hunger had you not guided me to the oasis.”

_The same oasis we were lying beside in my dream where I ravished you..._

Jim looked up at him. “You’re a total stranger to me, and yet...I’ve known you my whole life.”

“I wish I understood. You are my _del-ri_. My enigma.”

“Is that...a good thing, or a bad thing?” Jim said tentatively.

Spock could not answer him.

After a moment, Jim reached for something in the drawer of his nightstand—a folded piece of Earth drawing paper, with several small black smudges. “Here. You should see this.”

Spock curiously took it from him and unfolded it. His eyes actually did widen.

It was a perfect charcoal sketch of his own likeness. Jim smiled wanly. “I drew that the night before your shuttle docked on my ship. See? I know your face so well, I can draw it from memory.”

Spock felt the warmth in his cheeks increasing. “It is...most flattering,” he whispered.

“Look...” Jim took a breath, getting up from the bed and crossing to him, still stark naked. “I know we...don’t actually know each other that well. But this bond we have...I can feel it. It’s like...electricity between us. And I know if a psi-null human like me can feel this, then you have to as well. I don’t know how Vulcans go about this sort of thing but...we could make each other very happy, I think. You’re the one I’ve waited for my whole life. Somehow, some way, the entire fucking _universe_ conspired to bring us together. Spock...please. Don’t go to the Beta Quadrant. Be with me. At least, give it a try.”

His voice was so gentle, so hopeful...his eyes so bright with the possibilities...it made Spock ache to say...

“Jim. I can’t.”

Jim made a choking sound, eyes welling up with tears.

Spock instinctively reached to brush them away. “No, please don’t-”

Suddenly Jim’s comm whistled, breaking the spell. Jim inhaled, hastily wiping his eyes. “Kirk here.”

“ _Jim, ya found that Ambassador’s son yet? Chapel and I have run the tests...it’s a long shot, but we think this procedure can save his dad._ ”

Jim stared at Spock bleakly. “Yeah, Bones...he’s here with me.”

“ _Oh, great! Send him to sickbay right away!_ ”

The comm clicked off and Jim sniffled. “You, uh...you should go. Your dad needs help.”

“Jim...” Spock stepped toward him.

“Spock, _please_ ,” Jim whispered, turning away from him. “I’m asking you to leave.”

Heart sinking in his side, Spock nodded. “Very well...I will respect your wishes.”

Quickly stepping into his shoes, Spock padded toward the door. Just before walking out, Spock looked over his shoulder one more time.

“Thank you...for saving my life.”

Jim didn’t respond. Spock swallowed and exited, the door sliding shut behind him.


	7. Blood Is Thicker Than...

Spock walked to Sickbay in a daze, barely registering the nurse who greeted him as he shuffled into McCoy’s office. It wasn’t until the doctor’s Earth drawl reached his ears that he looked up. “I beg your pardon?”

“This procedure, Spock. It’s highly experimental, but I’m confident in it, and your mother’s finally approved it. Do you agree?”

Spock blinked. “I’m sorry, what procedure?”

“Oh, for f-...didn’t the Captain explain it to ya?”

The mention of Jim made Spock feel that aching sensation once again. “No...I had to hurry away,” Spock said quietly.

“Well, here’s the deal. Your pa needs surgery, _immediately_. But the only supply of T-negative on board this ship is sloshin’ around in your arteries. So what we wanna do is, hook you and your dad up, replicate your blood with this new, experimental stimulant for blood production, and feed it into him. _Comprendy?_ ”

Spock put a finger to his lips, thinking. “You know, of course, that I am half-human. My blood will have to be filtered.”

“ _That’s_ what the stimulant’s for!” said McCoy impatiently. “It’s only been tested on Rigelian physiology, but Rigelians and Vulcans are close enough that we think it should be safe.”

“Then by all means, let us begin,” said Spock. “The sooner, the better.”

Suddenly there was a ruckus from the exam room. McCoy sprang into action and Spock quickly followed behind.

“He was on deck five, sir. Someone attacked him from behind. We think his lung is punctured—he’s losing blood fast,” reported one of the orderlies who were carrying in a body on a stretcher.

“Take him into the OR!” McCoy ordered.

The orderlies carried the victim toward the door, and Spock caught a glimpse of his face. For a moment his heart stopped beating completely.

“ _Jim!_ ” he cried, rushing toward him.

“Spock, get outta here!” McCoy hollered, blocking him with his arm.

“He’s been hurt!” Spock cried, fighting him tooth and nail. He was surprised he didn’t break the doctor’s limb in his urgency.

“Unless you’re a licensed medical professional, there ain’t nothin’ you can do! Go!” McCoy darted into the OR, leaving Spock by himself in the exam room.

His own heartbeat thundered in his ears. _No. No...this_ **_cannot_ ** _be happening!_ Spock rushed out of the sickbay, feeling as though he was going to vomit.

* * *

Spock threw himself upon his mattress, drawing up the covers and bidding himself into a sleeping trance. His world went black...

And then he found himself on the bridge of the _Enterprise_. It was totally empty and deathly quiet. Even the viewscreen was blank. 

“Jim?” Spock called out. “Jim, please...speak to me!”

He was met with silence.

Spock slowly ambled toward Jim’s chair. He touched it...then sank to the floor, clinging to the arm. “Jim...I’m _sorry_ ,” he whispered. “I was afraid. I thought I could be strong...live as though I never met you. But now that I’ve met you, talked to you...touched you...I don’t know how I ever existed without you. You have turned my world on its axis. Please, _ashayam_...live. Just live. I beg of you. Even if you never speak to me again, the universe is _worthless_ without you in it.”

Something warm touched his hand and Spock looked up. Jim was staring down at him from the chair, eyes brimming with tears. “Do you really mean that?” he choked.

“ _JIM!_ ” Spock cried, leaping to his feet and pulling the human into his arms. “Oh, _ashayam_...are you alright?”

“Well for getting dumped and then stabbed, I think I’m doing okay,” said Jim, laughing breathily.

“Jim...who has done this? Who hurt you? I will slaughter them. I will make them pray for the mercy of a swift death,” Spock growled.

Jim gulped. “Is it wrong that I find you being threatening and vengeful kind of hot?”

“Jim, you must tell me.”

“One of the Andorians. He surprised me. I guess now we know who the assassin is. But Spock, he’s been locked up by now. Let my crew handle him.”

“You cannot ask me to sit idly by when some _kre’nath_ tries to harm the one I-” Spock caught himself and pursed his lips. “I cannot stand to see you harmed, _ashayam_.”

Jim tilted his head. “You keep calling me that...what does it mean?”

Spock hesitated, then shook his head, pulling away from the human. “Do not ask me that. I must refrain from such...emotional displays.”

Jim threw up his arms in disgust. “I don’t get you! You’re cold, then hot, then cold again.” Jim approached him and squeezed his arm. “Just _once_ , be honest with me. Do you hate me?”

“No!” said Spock, aghast.

“Then why are you treating me like this?”

“Because you...perplex me.”

“In what way?”

Spock stared at the blank viewscreen. “Imagine it like this,” he said quietly. “ou worked your whole life to be where you are, the captain of a starship. Your position is your pride and joy. You think you could never want for anything else. And then one day, the _Enterprise_ makes a stop on Vulcan. You beam down to the planet and you make my acquaintance. And suddenly you have these wild notions of throwing away all your achievements and leaving everything you’ve ever known behind...for me. How would you feel?

Jim sighed. “I guess I’d feel pretty weird. Like I wouldn’t know what to do or how to act.”

Spock nodded. “Precisely.”

“So...” The old joyous twinkle in Jim’s eyes returned, just a little bit. “You’re saying that you...you _do_ want to be with me?”

“Jim...there is an illogical part of me that _longs_ to follow you into the unknown.”

Jim’s breath hitched, the tears returning to his eyes.

“Jim?” said Spock, concerned. “Have I made you upset?”

“No, no, I’m...” Jim rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “Oh God, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say you feel the same way.”

“You must’ve known,” Spock said, holding him close and stroking his hair.

“Well, yes, I did...but I thought you’d be too hard-headed to admit it,” Jim laughed tearfully. Then his eyebrows flew up. “Wait! _Ashayam!_ It’s an endearment, isn’t it?”

“It means...‘beloved’,” Spock admitted, blushing.

Jim smiled, and Spock felt his spirits lift for the first time since his pon farr. “Call me it again.”

“ _Ashayam_ ,” Spock whispered.

Jim surged forward and soundly kissed him. Spock embraced him, letting feelings of joy and exhilaration his Vulcan ancestors would be horrified at wash over him.

Finally when Jim broke away, Spock said, “Jim, I do...feel for you...but I still feel conflict.”

Jim sighed reluctantly. “I know...it’s not like I’d ever ask you to give up your life for me, you know that right? Sure, I don’t want you to go to the Beta Quadrant, but I’m not asking you to quit your job and move onto the _Enterprise._ ”

“It’s more than just that,” Spock said. “You’ve made me question everything. Whether or not this path I’ve carved for myself is even the right one. It is the life expected of me...but now I’m wondering if this is the life I wanted, or the life I thought I was supposed to choose.”

“Well...what _did_ you want to do?”

“Believe it or not, I once applied for Starfleet Academy.”

Jim laughed. “ _Really?_ I can’t imagine.”

“I was accepted, too. But I chose the VSA instead. Perhaps in another life, I went another way.”

Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck. “Think we ended up together in that life?”

“Perhaps we did. Like you said...” Spock smiled ruefully. “The entire fucking universe conspired to bring us together.”

Jim pretended to gasp. “Mister Spock, did you just _swear?_ ” he asked, grinning.

“You must be a bad influence on me,” Spock responded, raising a playful eyebrow. Then he pulled Jim closer to kiss him—he was developing quite an affinity for human kissing.

_Spock? Spock?!_

Spock opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him, looking positively frantic. “Where have you been?!” Amanda exclaimed. “Your father is on his deathbed. He _needs_ your blood transfusion! He doesn’t have much time left!”

“Mother, I thought Dr. McCoy was occupied with the Captain,” said Spock, sitting up.

“He finished Captain Kirk’s surgery half an hour ago. We’ve been looking for you!”

“I’m already ready, Mother. But first I must see Captain Kirk.”

“Spock-!”

“Mother, I fully intend to help Father. But first I must speak to the Captain.”

Amanda exhaled, but nodded. “Fine. If it’ll get you on that hospital bed, anything.”

* * *

Jim was awake when Spock entered the sickbay. He was in bed, shirtless with a bandage wrapped around his chest. Jim smiled sleepily at the sight of him. “Hey, stranger. I wasn’t quite done with you.”

“Jim,” Spock exhaled with relief. In an instant he was leaning over Jim’s bed, kissing him. Suddenly the medscanner thrummed, and Spock pulled away to see that Jim’s heart rate was skyrocketing. Spock looked at Jim questioningly.

Jim blushed. “Stupid modern technology.”

“On the contrary, I find it most advantageous,” said Spock with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up.” Suddenly Jim frowned. “Wait...aren’t you supposed to be hooked up in the OR right now?”

“I was...but an urgent crisis required Dr. McCoy’s immediate attention.”

Jim’s mouth formed into an ‘O’. “Oh crap, your dad’s surgery got put off because of _me!_ Well what are you waiting for? Get in there!”

“Jim, I could not go into surgery without setting my worries about you to rest first. Knowing that you are alive and on the mend...that will give me peace of mind as I undergo the procedure.”

Jim took his hand. “Spock...you don’t know how lucky you are that your parents are still alive. You should cherish every moment you have with them. I’d give up every drop of blood in my body if it meant bringing my folks back.” Jim’s face slowly fell, and the haunted look in his eyes returned. “They didn’t just die...they were murdered. On...Tarsus IV.”

Spock’s eyes widened, and he gripped Jim’s hand. “ _Ashayam_ , I had no idea-”

Jim shook his head. “It’s alright. My point is, I couldn't have prevented their deaths, but you can save your dad. So you should go. I promise you, I’m fine, and I’ll be in the bed right next to yours when you wake up.”

Spock leaned forward and kissed him one last time. “I’ll see you in several hours, then.”

“You _better_.” Jim grinned. “I didn’t wait 33 years to meet my dream man just to lose him after three days!”


	8. Every Wise Man’s Son Doth Know

Spock gradually came out of his healing trance. Despite it, he was weak, drowsy, and disoriented. The fluorescent light of the _Enterprise_ ’s sickbay bled through his eyelids. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see...

“Well, good mornin’, Sleepin’ Beauty!” The doctor stood over him, preparing a hypospray. “This’ll give you a good jumpstart.”

McCoy administered the hypospray to his neck and Spock immediately felt more alert...and also queasy. “Thank you, Doctor, for this wonderous bout of nausea.”

McCoy harrumphed. “I manage to hold both you and your father together while the ship was under attack and _that’s_ the thanks I get? I knew I shoulda worked in the private sector.”

“Under attack?” Spock immediately looked around to Jim’s biobed to see that it was empty! “Where is Jim?!” Spock demanded.

“If he values his life, he better be on his way back down here,” McCoy groused. “Idiot hopped out of bed and ran up to the Bridge when the blasting started. Knew I couldn’t stop him ‘cause I was busy in the OR with you two!”

“Is he in danger?” Spock fretted.

“Of me kicking his ass, yes. Other than that...he’s probably fine,” sighed Bones. “That boy has a deal with destiny, I swear.” Then he turned and walked away.

Spock smiled at his retreating back. _You have no idea_.

“A smile, my son?”

Spock turned his head to see his father lying in the bed on his other side, awake and well. “Apologies, Father. A private joke.”

Sarek lifted his eyebrow. “Vulcans do not...‘joke.’”

“Perhaps Vulcans should try it every now and then,” Spock said.

Sarek laid his head back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Perhaps you should not have come on this trip. Being around humans has changed you.”

“For the better, I think.” Spock pursed his lips, considering his next words.

“You appear as if you have a question for me. Speak it, my son.”

“Father...when I was a child, I had visions. Of a boy. When I grew up, they became visions of a man.”

“You have never told me this.”

“I did not think I should. You would have thought me illogical.”

“Perhaps I would have. Continue.”

“I thought the man in my visions was a creation of my own mind. But several days ago, I met him in person. The man is Captain Kirk.”

Sarek’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “My son...you mean to tell me you have a telepathic link with the Captain?”

“Yes, Father. It is quite strong.”

“And you have never met before?”

“Not before coming aboard this ship.”

“My son...I did not believe it possible before...but the evidence is impossible to ignore. Spock...Captain Kirk is your _t’hy’la_.”

Spock’s brow furrowed. “I am unfamiliar with that word.”

“It is an archaic term, dating back to the days before Surak, before logic. Most modern Vulcans consider the concept mystic nonsense. A _t’hy’la_ bond is a sacred connection formed between two _katras_ so ideally complementary to one another, it is as if they are two parts of a whole. This bond requires no mind meld to form because it exists before both individuals are even born.”

“So Jim and I...we were _meant_ to be together,” Spock said in amazement.

“All your life, you and Kirk shared visions of each other because your _katras_ were reaching out to one another, and now you have found your _k’hat’n’dlawa_.”

“ _Father_...” Spock blushed at Sarek’s blatant emotionalism.

“It is the truth, my son.”

Spock leaned back on his pillows. “This explains so much...but, Father, what am I to do? You say I meant to be with Jim, but what of my work? What of my expedition? Should I give all that up to be with my _t’hy’la_ , you would disapprove of me.”

“My son, is my approval what you fear to lose should you pursue him? I swear it, there is no greater honor than to fulfill one’s destiny. And I should have made it clear before now: it is not what you have achieved that elevates yourself in my eyes. It is who you are. I am proud to call you my son.”

“Father,” Spock whispered in awe.

“And one last thing, Spock: the most worthy life you can lead is the one that you live for yourself. Not for anyone else.”

Sarek looked at Amanda, sound asleep on a stool beside his bed. “I have never disclosed this to you, Spock...but your mother was not my first wife.”

“Indeed?”

“Indeed. I was first wed to the Princess T’Rea of the S’Lara region. But after five years, we amicably divorced.”

“Why, Father?”

Sarek folded his hands over his lap. “The official story is that T’Rea wanted to pursue _kolinahr_ —which isn’t untrue—but the real reason for our separation was Amanda.”

“What made you leave a _princess_ for Mother?”

Sarek smiled calmly. “...I loved her.”

Spock let that sink in. Then he lifted an eyebrow. “A smile, my father?” he said puckishly.

“A bad habit I’ve picked up from your mother, I’m sure,” said Sarek, closing his eyes and dozing off.

Spock shook his head in amazement. His father was a complete stranger. And yet...their conversation was like looking in a mirror.

* * *

A little while later, Spock found himself stirring out of slumber by the sound of Jim and McCoy’s voices. He lifted his head as the two humans walked in. McCoy studied Spock and Sarek and shook his head, saying, “That pig-headed Vulcan stamina. I couldn't have pulled them through without it.”

“Some doctors have all the luck,” Jim gently teased.

“Jim—er, Captain Kirk,” said Spock, blushing under his mother’s suspicious gaze. “What of the assassin?”

“He’d taken slow-acting poison—dead now, I’m afraid. The ship pursuing us blew themselves up to avoid capture. It was a kamikaze mission. Bones, Thelev's body will be brought to your lab. I want an autopsy performed as soon as possible. Due to intelligence reports, we suspect he's not an Andorian, but an Orion,” Jim said.

“I apologize I could not be more help in the investigation, Captain,” Spock said.

“You might have had something else on your mind,” Jim said, smiling sheepishly, and Spock blushed again, thinking of the blood fever.

Spock cleared his throat and said flatly. “That hardly seems likely.”

“No, but thank you anyway,” Jim said, fondly rolling his eyes.

Amanda looked at her husband. “And you, Sarek. Would you also say thank you to your son?”

“I don't understand,” said the Vulcan blankly.

“For saving your life?”

“Spock acted in the only logical manner open to him. One does not thank logic, Amanda.”

“Logic, logic!” Amanda exclaimed in frustration, standing up. “I'm sick to death of logic. Do you want to know how I feel about your logic?”

Spock looked at his father. “Emotional, isn't she?” he remarked.

“She has always been that way,” Sarek replied, playing along.

“Indeed? Why did you marry her?”

“At the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.” Sarek held out two fingers to Amanda, whose anger was dissolving due to the gentle ribbing. She smiled reluctantly and touched her fingers to her husband’s.

Jim smiled at them, then turned to look at Spock, but frowned suddenly. “Bones-”

His knees buckled. Spock immediately tensed, ready to jump out of bed to catch him.

“No, no, I'm all right,” Jim said, waving a hand at him.

McCoy gave him a hand and helped him onto the bed on Spock’s other side. “If you keep arguing with your kindly family doctor, you're going to spend your next ten days right here. If you cooperate, you'll be out in two.”

“Dr. McCoy, I believe you're enjoying all this,” said Jim, half-amused.

“Indeed, Captain,” Spock chimed in. “In my short time aboard this vessel, I've never seen him happy before this very moment.”

“Shut up!” McCoy snapped. Then he turned to Jim, who had opened his mouth to speak. “ _Shh! Shh!_ ”

Jim pursed his lips, trying not to laugh. Spock raised an eyebrow, but remained silent.

McCoy beamed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Well, what do you know? I finally got the last word!”

* * *

_Two weeks later..._

“Spock, having a family dinner in our suite before we dock at Vulcan was a wonderful idea,” said Amanda, lighting candles. “Of course, replicator food isn’t quite the same as _my_ home cooking, but still it’ll be nice to sit down as a family. Especially since Spock’s flying off to the Beta Quadrant as soon as we arrive!”

Spock and Sarek shared a knowing look. Suddenly, the door chimed. Amanda frowned confusedly, staring at the door. “Now who could that be?”

“I’ll answer it, Mother.” Spock got up and authorized the door to open. “Ah, Captain Kirk, so glad you could come.”

“My pleasure,” said Jim, smiling as Spock let him in. Instead of his uniform, he was dressed in a light blue button-up shirt, a dark blue blazer, and grey slacks. Spock subtly eyed the figure Jim cut in that blazer, then imagined peeling him out of it later that night...

“Captain? I’m surprised to see you...although certainly not displeased,” said Amanda, shaking his hand.

“I brought this bottle of wine,” said Jim, holding it out. “I know Sarek and Spock don’t drink, but I thought you and I could enjoy it.”

“That’s so kind...” Poor Amanda still looked bewildered as she took the bottle from him.

“Oh, I apologize, Mother. I must’ve forgotten to mention, I invited the Captain to dine with us. I hope that’s alright.”

“No, of course not...I hope you don’t mind vegetarian food, Captain.”

“Spock’s turned me onto it in the past few days,” said Jim, giving Spock a subtle grin. “Shall we?”

The four sat down to eat, and they shared pleasant small talk about the successful admittance of Coridan into the Federation. It wasn’t until they were almost done with their meal that Amanda sighed. “This is something of a farewell dinner, Captain. Our little Spock is saying goodbye to us after tonight.”

“Yes, working on a starship can make one homesick. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure Spock gets shore leave on Vulcan whenever he needs it.”

Amanda blinked at him. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Jim looked at Spock. “Mister Spock, did you not tell her?”

“I was planning to surprise her with the news, Captain.”

“What news?” Amanda asked.

Jim smiled, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “You tell her, Spock.”

“Very well. As of tomorrow, I am officially the _Enterprise_ ’s new Chief Science Officer.”

“What?” said Amanda. “But what about your expedition?”

“It’s no longer available to me, as I’ve taken leave of my job at the VSA.”

Amanda’s jaw dropped. “When did this happen?!”

“Twelve days, 14 hours, and 27 minutes ago,” Spock replied calmly. “I found it no longer was suitable to my lifestyle.”

“But...but...you’re a _civilian_. Starfleet officers have to go through _years_ of Academy training-”

“Spock’s more than qualified,” Jim chimed in. “His scientific merits speak for themselves, and as for officer’s training, I’m personally overseeing his on-the-job certification. Normally this kind of thing would be unheard of, but with the Ambassador’s kind letter of recommendation...”

Amanda whipped her head around. “Wait. _You knew_ about all this?!”

“Naturally, my wife,” said Sarek, as calmly as you please.

“Well I...I-I-I am just flabbergasted,”’said Amanda, leaning back in her seat. “Spock, these changes in your life are so big, so _sudden_ -”

“Well, he who is to be my bondmate has shown me that a little spontaneity can be good in life,” Spock said, taking Jim’s hand and gazing at him.

“Well _yes_ , spontaneity is all well and good, but you have to be sure—wait, _bondmate?!_ ” Amanda squawked, eyes darting between Spock and Jim.

Jim looked at Spock, shaking his head scoldingly. “You haven’t told her _anything_ , have you, sweetheart. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Look at your poor mother, she’s about to have a heart attack.”

“I wanted her to be surprised,” Spock said with a shrug.

“Well you certainly succeeded!” Amanda exclaimed. “So...you and James are-?”

Spock nodded patiently. “Yes, Mother.”

Jim cleared his throat. “Actually, Amanda, that’s why I’m here tonight. We were hoping to get your blessing. You see...I _adore_ your son.” Jim gazed into Spock’s eyes. “He’s the sweetest, most amazing, most brilliant person I’ve ever known. And I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make him as happy as he’s made me.”

Amanda looked quite moved. She looked at her son. “Darling? Do you feel the same way?”

Spock looked at her and said, “Mother...I say this with complete honesty: James Kirk is the man of my dreams.”

Amanda’s gaze darted from Spock to Jim several times before she finally broke into a bright smile. “Oh, of _course_ I give you my blessing! I can’t believe my baby’s getting _married!_ ” She threw her arms around both of them and cheerfully said, “Jim, welcome to the family. Hurt my baby boy and I’ll have you thrown in the dirtiest dungeon on Tellar. Believe me, I have the diplomatic power.”

“And I, of course, also give my blessing,” said Sarek. “Spock, may you and your bondmate live long and prosper.”

Jim squeezed Spock’s hand under the table, beaming at him. _We did it._

* * *

“Oh God, I wish I’d had a camera,” said Jim as he and Spock arrived at his cabin. “Your mom’s face—I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“Well I would request you put her out of your mind for the next hour or so,” said Spock.

“Oh? And why is that?”

Spock grabbed Jim by the lapels of his blazer and pulled him up against his chest. “Because I have been thinking about how I am going to ravish you on that bed all evening,” he growled.

Jim shivered. “Who were we talking about again? I’ve suddenly forgot.” He grinned and met Spock’s lips in a kiss. “Tomorrow morning Scotty’s marrying us in the ship’s chapel. Just one more night of bachelorhood. Sure you won’t miss it?” he teased.

“Jim, you seem to forget—I’ve been literally dreaming of being with you since I was seven,” Spock replied.

Jim hummed. “Yeah, you’re right...we’ve waited long enough.” Then their lips met again as they stumbled into the bedroom.

_The end._


End file.
